


I Would Do Anything For You: Ziam Drabbles

by StormDancer



Series: One Direction Drabbles [6]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 16,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDancer/pseuds/StormDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my Ziam drabbles, AU ideas, and other snippets, originally posted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of all the Ziam drabbles I've written on Tumblr. Some of them will be long, some short; some won't even be proper drabbles at all, just summaries of what I would write. Mostly unbetaed, so there very well could be some typos, sorry. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_**Prompt: Baisemain-a kiss on the hand** _

It takes Liam aback. He wasn’t—it was a blind date, okay? Even worse than that, it was a blind double date, where Harry had absolutely insisted that Niall’s friend was really awesome and really hot and clever and funny and nice and Liam was going to love him and he should really go please? Liam’s pretty long since learned not to trust Harry’s opinion on people, because he would call the most boring person alive interesting, but he also knows how much Harry wants this thing with Niall to work, so he agreed. It couldn’t be too bad.

It could. It could be too bad, because the guy with Niall isn’t just hot, he’s—he’s breathtaking, and it chokes in Liam’s throat, because there is no way he’s real. He’s too much, he can’t actually exist, Liam’s probably hallucinating over some overweight middle-aged man, because there’s no way Liam didn’t craft this person out of his imagination, from the tips of his doc martens to the top of his dark, messy hair.

“Hey!” Harry chirps, tugging Liam forward. Liam follows him blindly. What’s he supposed to do with this? He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared for it. He’s not smooth at the best of times, and now—“Niall!”

“Harry!” Niall’s grin is bright, and he tugs Harry into a hug that has Harry glowing too. “And Liam, hey.” Liam manages a smile. He thinks words got caught somewhere around when he noticed how long the guy’s eyelashes were. “Liam, this is Zayn. Zayn, Liam.”

“Hi,” Zayn says, and sticks out his hand. His voice is a bit rough, but there’s something like warm and welcoming in it, and he has tattoos down his arm and one of them is a comics-style ZAP! and Liam just—he panics.

The next thing he knows, he’s taking Zayn’s hand and bringing it to his lips, brushing them over the knuckles. It only comes to him as he does it that it’s such a stupid cliché move and what was he thinking and this guy is cool not this, and he immediately drops Zayn’s hand.

“Wow, Liam,” Niall chuckles, “Smooth.”

“Hey, Liam’s got moves,” Harry objects. Liam kind of never wants to look away from his feet again, but he has to look at Zayn if only to see the irritation and rejection he knows is there, because of course he’d mess things up with this beautiful guy within seconds.

But instead, Zayn’s looking at him with an almost coy look from under those eyelashes, and he’s smiling this soft, fond smile that makes Liam feel like he’s known him forever.

“Sorry,” Liam mutters. Zayn’s smile gives him the confidence to give one in return, with a sheepish shrug. “I just—that was forward, sorry.”

“Nah.” Zayn’s smile broadens, and oh fuck Liam’s pretty sure he’s in love right now. “It was, like, chivalrous, yeah? Properly romantic. Never had a guy kiss my hand before.” He grins, teasing. “You gonna pull out my chair for me too?”

“I’ll even hold the doors,” Liam swears.

(Later—much later—Liam will sweep Zayn off his feet and carry him over a threshold, and Zayn will laugh, and ask if he’s been planning this since he kissed his hand. Liam will grin so wide he thinks he’s breaking with it, with the joy that’s in him, and kiss Zayn properly, still holding him close, and tell Zayn that not all romance is dead, even now they’re married.)  


	2. Chapter 2

_**A Comicon AU:** _

Where Zayn is working a booth and he’s bored out of his mind, because he doesn’t like talking to people and he’s proud of the comics he worked on but he hates how rude people are, and he hates the yelling and hawking that’s associated with it. But there’s this one guy–this one guy who’s dressed in a full out Batman cosplay, including cowl, so all Zayn knows is he’s really fit and he’s got gentle brown eyes that somehow don’t match Batman’s at all–he keeps coming back, and he’s, well, he’s pretty okay. He’s really enthusiastic about all the comics Zayn tries to convince him to take, and he has the nicest smile Zayn’s seen in a while, and he always takes the comics, every one of them. He even comes back, every time they put out a new set, gives Zayn that same beaming smile and pulls Zayn into a very serious conversation about which one is best. It’s gotten to be the highlight of Zayn’s time, even better than watching the impressive cosplayers go by, even better than texting Louis bragging things about how he just saw Patrick Stewart walk by, those conversations he has with the Batman each time before the line sweeps him away.

Then, at the end of day, once he’s packed up everything his boss ordered him to and he’s pushing his way through the crowd to get to the exit to get the fuck home, a guy stops him. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt, and he’s really fit as well, but Zayn’s through with people for today and he’s always a bit wary at cons, so he jerks away. They guy holds up his hands, and he looks so concerned Zayn has an odd impulse to comfort him. “Sorry!” he says, and he sounds so earnest about it. “I just–I just wanted to say bye, I guess?”

Zayn’s really confused for a second, because he doesn’t recognize the guy–but then he looks at him, and he sees gentle brown eyes and plush lips and oh. “You’re Batman!” he exclaims, before he realizes how stupid that sounds.

But the guy just laughs, and his smile is even better without the cowl. “Or, actually, it’s Liam,” he says, and holds out his hand a little awkwardly, like he’s not sure he should. “I didn’t want to go home in costume.”

“Zayn.” Zayn takes his hand and shakes it. He’s got a firm grip, big strong hands with callouses on them like he knows how to use them.

“Zayn,” Liam repeats, like he’s fixing it in his mind. Then he gives Zayn another one of those smiles, though there’s something softer in it, more bashful. “So, um, Zayn–want to grab something to eat with me? You can tell me about all the comics I didn’t manage to get.”

Zayn’s feet are killing him, and he is so horribly sick of people, and he wants to curl up on his bed and never move again, or at least not until he has to come back tomorrow.

“Sure,” he says, despite all that. “Yeah, I could.”

“Really?” Liam’s eyes widen, like he hadn’t expected Zayn to actually say yes. “I mean, great! Now? There’s a diner…”

Then they have dinner and bond over comics and nerdery and the next day Liam spends almost all his time near the booth, chatting with Zayn and making it bearable and probably selling more copies than Zayn does. They have dinner again. And again. And live happily ever after in their nerd love, and go to a lot of cons together in full cosplay.

(It’s only on their third date, once the con is done, that Liam confesses he had gone back to the booth every time just to see and talk to Zayn again.)

 


	3. Chapter 3

_**Prompt: Lustful** _

__

Zayn can feel him watching. 

It’s not new. He knows perfectly well what he’s here for, knows that as much as this is a real job he’s also here because he’s pretty and he’s a display, as much an add for the suits as the manikins out front. Even if he’s not in back in the fitting rooms yet, people watch him. They’ve been watching him since he was eighteen and started to slim out, lose his baby fat for the sharp lines of his jaw and cheeks, but especially since he started this job.

So it’s not anything new, to feel eyes on him as he carefully folds the ties to lay in their cases. He can’t say he loves it, but it works, and he’s gotten sales out of it before, he presents once or twice, and he’s willing to work with what he’s got if it gets him what he needs, which is mainly cash.  So he slows down his motions, makes sure to add extra flicks that show off his long fingers, what his boss calls his ‘elegant lines’. When he turns to put the ties away, he manages to steal a glance at the latest guy.

He’s younger than a lot of the men who come in, probably not much older than Zayn, which always makes Zayn want to scowl a bit, because he’s working in this fucking store as maybe one step up from a whore and this guy’s buying the thousand dollar suits, but it also makes it feel less skeezy than when the old men leer at him—or worse, almost, when their wives do. But this one is young, and classically handsome, with slicked back brown hair and brown eyes and broad shoulders, arms that look like he could throw Zayn around a bit if they wanted—but only if he wanted, Zayn thinks. There’s something in his face that sets him apart from some of the guys who stare at him, who look at him like a pretty toy. Some kindness, maybe. Something softer.

Zayn spends too long trying to figure out the source of that difference, and suddenly their eyes are meeting. The other guy’s eyes widen, and he looks away immediately, like he was bashful, like he was ashamed of ogling the fit counter boy. That’s…not usually the result of Zayn making eye contact. Usually Zayn making eye contact ends in smirks and winks and boxes passed oily over the table.

But this guy just looks away, and it’s such a change that Zayn can feel himself smile a bit, at the difference, at the refreshing change. The guy’s eyes widen even more, but there’s the heat again, and Zayn’s smile dies in the face of that. He looks down at the cuff links he’s arranging. The guy can look if he wants, but Zayn doesn’t give himself away for free. He’s better than that, at least.

“Hi.” Zayn looks up. The guy’s at the counter now, and Zayn feels a bit like bashing his head against the table. Of course he is.

But he’s a professional, and he knows how this game goes, and maybe he can get something out of it he can sell for something to send home, so, “How can I help you?” he asks, politely.

The guy glances down again, then back at Zayn. “I just wanted to apologize for staring,” he says. Zayn clenches his jaw to keep it from dropping. No one’s ever done that before. “I bet you get that a lot, and it can’t be comfortable, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn finds himself saying. “Not like I’m not used to it.”

“That sucks,” the guy replies, earnest, and Zayn can’t help his smile at that. “To have people just looking at you all the time.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “It does.”

The guy nods, like he means it, like the sympathy is real, realer than anything else in this fucking store, in Zayn’s whole fucking life. It’s a lot. “I’m really sorry then. You’re just—I sort of couldn’t help it.”

Zayn doesn’t know what possesses him. Maybe it’s that earnestness. Maybe it’s that this guy is the fittest who’s ever approached him. Maybe it’s that if Zayn’s going to whore himself out, he’d rather it be with someone who apologizes, who looks bashful, who doesn’t assume he’s there for the taking. (Zayn doesn’t even think that maybe this guy doesn’t want him to whore himself out. That maybe some guys just want to know him). But whatever the reason, “It’s okay,” Zayn repeats, and lets himself smile again, just a bit, hollowing out his cheeks. Sure enough, the guy’s eyes go a bit dark. “It’s not always that bad.”  


	4. Chapter 4

Liam wakes up to the sounds of a fire burning. It’s a sound he’s conditioned to take notice of, camping in the forest, especially when he knows he tamped out his fire last night, so he springs up immediately, sword at the ready. The forests are a dangerous place, nowadays, and for him especially.

Instead of a bandit, though, there’s just a boy kneeling in front of the firepit he’d made last night, coaxing a flame into light. A boy Liam knows, though one he never wanted here. One he had very specifically told not to be here, actually.

“Zayn,” he says, trying to sound displeased despite the pleasure that wraps around him whenever he sees Zayn, no matter the circumstances.

Zayn looks over his shoulder, and smiles. It’s beautiful and careless and it warms Liam from the inside out, and it shouldn’t be here. “Liam,” he parrots, and rises to his feet, that graceful movement that always makes Liam wonder why he didn’t train as a knight. “Hello to you too.”

“What are you doing here?” he demands. Zayn’s eyebrows raise, and his lips press together.

“Where else would I be?”

“Home?” Liam argues. In the castle, where he’d be protected by knights and stone walls and all the other barriers against the dark. In his tower, surrounded by his books, so Liam could know he’s safe while he quests for an way out of this evil, so Liam could close his eyes and imagine that quiet, safe space for him to return to. “Where I told you to stay?”

Zayn laughs without humor. “I’m not sitting around while you go riding off into danger.”

“That’s my job.”

“This wasn’t!” Zayn hisses. There’s something sharp and fierce in the air suddenly, his eyes golder than they were a moment ago, and it always hits Liam harder than it should, the reminder of the power underneath Zayn’s skin. “You didn’t need to volunteer.”

“I didn’t volunteer, I was chosen.” Liam’s hand falls to his side, where the sword sits. The sword that chose him, that sings in his blood. “It’s my quest.”

“So it’s mine.” Zayn steps forward. Liam has faced dangerous, deadly things, and it’s this that makes him feel the need to step back, away from this man who is the one thing who could bring him to his knees. “I’m helping.”

“You’re going home.”

“Liam.” Zayn’s voice is fierce, but his touch is gentle, as it strokes over Liam’s jaw. “You’re going into danger. Of course I’m going with you.”

“But—”

“But I’m going with you,” Zayn repeats, eyes steely. Then he smiles. “Stop arguing, yeah? Then maybe we can get this shit done.”

He turns away, but Liam catches his wrist before he can go back to the fire. His wrist is achingly thin under Liam’s big, clumsy hand. “You know I just want you to be safe.”

Zayn’s shoulders relax, and he smiles again, soft and fond, the smile he only points at Liam, that Liam hordes more than anything. “Then there’s nowhere better for me to be than with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

_**Prompt: Insanity** _

__

“I am not getting in that thing.” Liam pouts, and Zayn laughs and covers his eyes. “No. Not even the puppy dog eyes, Li, I’m not doing it.” 

“But I’m certified and everything!” Liam runs a hand over the plane, the sleek lines of it. It’s a bit his pride and joy, and he’d really wanted to show it to his boyfriend, to let his boyfriend experience this part of him he loves too. “It’s perfectly safe.”

“It’s like some metal with wings,” Zayn retorts. He’s not bundled up at all, even though Liam told him too, so his hands are tucked into the pockets of his wool coat and his nose is bright red. Liam rather wants to kiss it, so he does. Zayn giggles, put pushes him away. “No. Stop being cute. It’s not going to work.”

“But Zayn…” Liam wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist, to tug him closer. “Come on, please? It’s sick, I promise. I won’t let you get hurt.”

“No, Liam,” Zayn steps away, “I’m not insane, I am not getting into that deathtrap.”

“She’s not a deathtrap!” Liam protests, and lets go of Zayn to pat at the plane’s side. “Don’t insult her.”

“Her?” Zayn asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do I have competition?”

“She’s willing to compromise,” Liam argues, “If you would just make friends…”

“Not happening.”

“You sure?” Liam grins, sticks out his lower lip. “Please?”

“Not on your life.”

“Fine.” Liam lunges, and before Zayn can run away he’s scooped him up into his arms, whirling him around as Zayn’s arms fasten around his neck, “I’ll just have to get you in the plane myself.”

“Liam!” Zayn’s breathless with laughter, warm against his chest, and Liam spins them around one more time, just because he can, just because he’s got the most amazing beautiful wonderful person in the world in his arms. “Put me down!”

“Not until you apologize to her,” He protests, and carries Zayn towards the plane. “Be nice, babe, come on.”

“Li,” Zayn gasps out. He’s clutching at Liam’s neck, and Liam can feel his laughter against his chest, “I love you, but I am not getting in that plane.”

Liam almost drops him. He manages not to, but his eyes are wide as he looks down at Zayn. Zayn’s giving him a hopeful smile, his eyes bright in the winter air, his cheeks flushed, his teeth digging into his lips.

“Liam?” he prompts, when Liam’s not managed to say anything.

“Zayn,” Liam echoes, and this time he does drop Zayn, but only so he can grab him again, to push him until he’s against the plane and kiss him. Zayn’s hands come around his neck again and Liam presses close until there’s nothing between them, so he can taste the smoke and Zayness of his mouth. “God, Zayn,” he says again, once he’s managed to kiss them both senseless, “I love you too, of course.”

Zayn’s smile is bright as the sun, as the light off the plane, and Liam has to taste it again, until they’re just sharing air, their foreheads resting together.

“So,” Liam says at last. He can feel himself beaming. “About the plane…”

“No, Li.”

“I love you.”

“No.”

“Bet I can convince you.” He grins. Zayn’s grinning back.

“It’s not going to work. But you can try.” Liam laughs, and gets to work trying.  


	6. Chapter 6

_**Prompt: Possessive** _

“Li, you’ve got to stop staring.” Harry’s voice is gentle, but firm, and it doesn’t help at all. Liam knows that. He knows that perfectly well, that he needs to stop staring—glaring, if he’s being honest, that he needs to actually look away. He knows that. He just—isn’t.

“Well, it’s pretty shameless, isn’t it?” he demands. Across the bar, Zayn’s smiling at some guy, that come-hither smirk he does that makes him even more unbearably irresistible, and he keeps on giving him these looks, through his eyelashes.

“Liam.” Harry says, so uncharacteristically stern that Liam has to look at him. He’s giving Liam his version of a chiding glare, which isn’t particularly intimidating but Liam knows what it means, so he listens. “Liam, you said no.”

“I know, just—” Just he didn’t realize it would mean this. Just that he didn’t realize telling Zayn he wasn’t interested meant he would go flirt with other people, instead of doing what he normally did in bars which was ignore the guys who tried to flirt with him to hang out with Liam. That he’d go out and give someone else those looks he gives Liam sometimes, that make him feel like he could do anything. “It’s fast, right? We only talked last night.”

“He’s getting over you.” Harry says flatly. It sticks in Liam’s throat, and he downs the rest of his beer. Over at the bar, Zayn puts his hand on the guy’s arm, and the guy moves closer, and that’s enough. Zayn’s vulnerable right now. He can’t let Zayn make a mistake just because Liam—because Liam isn’t—because Liam can’t be gay. He’s not. He won’t be. 

“I’m going over there,” He announces, and shoves back his chair. Harry catches his wrist before he can.

“Li, don’t do this.”

“I’m going over,” Liam repeats. He’s maybe a bit drunker than he thought, he realizes now that he’s standing, but not too drunk that he can’t pull away from Harry to go over to the bar, to throw an arm over Zayn’s shoulder, so he falls against Liam, fitting right into his side like he does.

“Liam?” Zayn chokes. Liam holds him tight and turns to the guy, who’s got wide eyes and a confused look.

“He has a crush on me,” Liam informs him, “You—”

“Liam,” Zayn snaps.

“He does,” Liam goes on. It’s important that this guy understands that. “So he can’t go home with you. He likes me.”

“Liam, go away now,” Zayn’s voice is sharp, like it is when he’s mad, and he pulls away from Liam.

“You’re just a rebound,” Liam says, and Zayn glares, more than he ever has, but the guy holds up his hands and retreats. Good. It wasn’t fair.

Then Zayn’s hands are on his arms and he’s being spun so he’s staring into Zayn’s eyes, his face screwed up into a glare that’s just as hot as every other expression he makes. Why did he have to be so attractive, attractive enough even straight guys can see it? If Liam didn’t know that it’d be easier.

“What the actual fuck, Liam?” Zayn hisses. “What was that?”

Liam blinks. Zayn doesn’t get mad at him, not ever, not even when he does stupid reckless things. “You like me,” he explains, “You said so.”

“And you said no,” Zayn snaps back, “So I’m dealing with that.”

“But…” Liam shakes his head, stumbles forward so he can put his hand on Zayn’s waist, right above his hip, where it fits. “No. You’re—no.”

“Liam,” Zayn sighs, and it’s like the anger is draining out of him, and now he sounds exhausted, and Liam doesn’t like that either. Zayn needs to lean against him when he’s drained, let Liam hold him up, so he tries to pull Zayn into his arms, but Zayn steps back. “You can’t do this to me.”

“But you’re mine,” Liam repeats, plaintive. He doesn’t know much, maybe not even about himself—but he knows that. That much, he’s sure of.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Prompt: things you said at the kitchen table:** _

“You know,” Liam says, “It’s really silly you have to go home to get clothes.” 

He knows this is cheating, because Zayn’s barely got his tea in him yet and so he’s still got that blinking, deer in headlights look that makes Liam want to cuddle him into his shoulder and make sure nothing bad ever touches him, but Zayn won’t hold it against him. And he’s not taking risks with this one. 

“Otherwise, you could have gotten up half an hour later,” he adds, for good measure. 

Zayn blinks, and takes another long drink of tea. Liam can’t help his soppy grin at him. He’s just so Zayn, and it’s amazing. “Are you trying to get me to move in with you?” Zayn asks, his voice still rough from sleep. 

“Well, if you want to, it would be more convenient—”

“Li,” Zayn interrupts him, smiling just as sappily back. “You had me at more sleep.”


	8. Chapter 8

_**Prompt: "last time I ask you for a favor!"** _

“Push!”

“I’m pushing!”

“Well push harder then, Zayn, because—fuck.” Liam grunts it out as he yanks the couch through the doorway, and Zayn takes a second to save the sound of that in his mind before he starts lugging his end through into the apartment. 

“See, told you it could fit,” Zayn announces triumphantly, as he and Liam lower the old grey couch into the corner together. Liam’s muscles bulge nicely under his tank top, and he’s glistening with sweat, even though he wipes it away sometimes with the bandana stuck in his back pocket. It’s really, really nice to look at. Zayn may have asked him to help him move because of that, but he figures it’s only fair if he gets a reward of getting to look at Liam’s muscles if he has to move.

“Yeah, sure.” Liam wipes the sweat off his face, then collapses onto the couch, kicking his feet out in front of him. And that’s a very nice picture too. “Why did you even need this one? It’s probably really gross by now.”

Zayn shrugs, and sits down on the opposite end of the couch as Liam. He’s sweating too, he knows, but he’s probably gross with it. He’s never had muscles to speak of. It’s another reason he’d talked Liam into helping him move. “It’s mine. It’s the best for sleeping on.”

“Because there are chemicals or something that put you to sleep.”

“Hey!” Lazily, Zayn pats at the couch. “Don’t listen to him, love. He’s just jealous.”

“Of what?” It comes out a bit too fast, and Zayn looks up at him to see what’s wrong. But it doesn’t look like anything’s wrong, from what Zayn can see; it’s just Liam, solid jaw and smiling eyes and those shoulders Zayn’s only dreamed of climbing once or twice. Or every few nights. It’s whatever.

“That I get the couch,” Zayn says, a little slowly. But when Liam doesn’t say anything more, he shrugs and goes on. Liam will tell him when he’s ready. It’s how they work. “And that now it won’t be next door for you to nap on when you need to.”

“I’ve never napped on this a day in my life,” Liam claims, which is blantantly untrue because Zayn’s woken up cuddled next to Liam on this couch before.

“Hmph. Liar.”

“Never,” Liam insists, and Zayn snorts again.

“Fine. Last time I ask you for a favor.”

Now it’s Liam’s turn to snort. “Like you aren’t going to ask me to cart up your five hundred pounds of books?”

It’s not not true, Zayn can admit. He really hates moving. And carrying things. And physical labor, in general. Though he does enjoy watching Liam do it. “Like you’re going to say no,” he retorts instead, rolling his neck lazily. He should probably do something more; there are more things downstairs. But he just wants to sit here with Liam, on this couch. Maybe fall asleep together.

“Zayn.” Something in Liam’s voice makes Zayn glance at him. He’s looking at Zayn with that intent, earnest look he gets when he really, really believes something and wants you to believe it too. “You know I’d never say no to you.”

Zayn ducks his head to hide his blush, the silly grin he knows is spreading over his face. “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

Liam reaches out, so his hand is heavy and hot on Zayn’s thigh. “Good.”

Zayn’s never getting rid of this couch.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Prompt: "Can we pretend I didn't just say that?"** _

__

“Okay, Liam. Word association.” Louis grins, sharp edged. Liam doesn’t really know why he’s doing thing, but Louis’d said something about his psych class and Zayn had been nodding in the background and Liam couldn’t really say no to one of them, let alone both combined. Especially when Zayn was in that red shirt.

So now he’s on a couch in Louis and Zayn’s flat, with Louis sitting on the armchair in a parody of a psychologist and Zayn puttering around in the kitchen doing something that probably isn’t baking.

“That’s where you say the word and I say the first thing that comes to mind?”

“Exactly. You ready?”

“Sure.” Liam settles himself on the couch, braces his arms on his knees, and doesn’t think about what Zayn might be doing in the kitchen.

“Batman.”

“Awesome.”

“Iron Man”

“Not as cool as Batman.”

“Wrong, but okay.”

“Louis.”

“Haha.” Louis sneers at him, and Liam grins back, proud he got the better of him for once. “Okay, for real now. Food.”

“Pizza.”

“Shelter.”

“Home.”

“Green.”

“Grass.”

“Tree.”

“House.”

It’s a rhythm, one Liam starts to get into, almost zoning out as he asnwers them.

“Cat.”

“Tiger.”

“Jacket.”

“Leather.”

“Love.”

“Zayn.”

Louis chokes. _Liam_ chokes. Fuck. Fucking shit.

“Not—can we pretend I didn’t just say that?” Liam knows he’s scarlet, and he really didn’t mean to say that, didn’t mean to ever let anyone know that, because they’re best friends and he doesn’t really want anymore or well he does but not really, and fuck Louis and his mind games.

But Louis isn’t looking at him. Louis’s looking over his shoulder, and Liam knows what he’s looking at before he even turns around.

Zayn’s standing there, a dish gripped white-knuckled in one hand. His face is pale, and his eyes are bigger than Liam’s ever seen them before. But he’s smiling too, not the mischievous one he’d get if he were going to tease, or the sad but kind one he’d use if he was going to break Liam’s heart. For the first time, Liam’s heart flutters in something like hope.

“No,” Zayn says, slowly, and puts aside the dish. “No, I don’t think we can.”

Louis snorts. “I’ll be going now, then.”

Liam barely hears him go.


	10. Chapter 10

**Prompt:** **having a wet dream and calling the other’s name during it.**

They’re in bed, or a bed, a bed Liam doesn’t know but he knows is his, his bed at home, but it’s warm and cozy and there’s a fire and roses, and Zayn is pushing him back onto the bed so he’s sitting, then he’s sinking to his knees and looking up at Liam like he’d looked up at Harry that one time with the candy thong and he’s got his hands on Liam and  they’re calloused just a bit form pencils and microphones and life like Liam knows they are from when they brush over his shoulders or pull him into a hug, but they feel even better on his cock. Then he’s leaning in and his lips are there instead, pink pink lips wrapped around Liam and sucking and it makes him arch his back and push into it, into the wet heat of him, and nothing matters but that, not Perrie or Sophia or the band or anyone, just Zayn and him and the world could fall to pieces outside, he just needs more of Zayn.

Then Zayn’s under him, looking up at him like he does sometimes, like there’s no one better in the world and he’s so fucking tight around Liam and Liam’s thrusting into him as he moans and smiles and reaches for Liam like he wants more,  and all Liam can think, all he can say or hear or be, is “Zayn…”, and he’s shaking and…

He wakes up slowly, the shaking slowly transitioning from Zayn vibrating beneath him to a hand on his shoulder. Then he blinks, and Zayn’s face fills his vision, all perfect cheekbones and big eyes and fluttering eyelashes and pink pink lips, and Liam flinches away.

Zayn lets him go, which is worse. “we’ve got call in 20,” he says, biting at his lip in a way that is not fucking helping. He glances at Liam, quickly down to Liam’s crotch, where morning wood is pretty obvious, then away, then back again, to Liam’s face. “Are we going to talk about it?”

He heard, then. Liam looks down, but that’s his lap, so instead he just looks out the window of the hotel room. “No?”

“Okay,” Zayn steps back, but he offers Liam a sheepish, apologetic smile. “I’ll, like. Leave you to it.”

Liam watches him go, in his tight jeans and well cut shirt and slim hips, and really, really wishes he could pretend he wasn’t going to go to the shower to jerk off to the image of Zayn shaking him awake, except this time it’d be with one of his sly smiles and a kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

“I don’t know why you’re nervous.” Liam reaches across the gear shift to put a hand on Zayn’s knee, still it from its bouncing. “You’ve already met my family. They love you. I think they love you more than me.” 

“I know,” Zayn agrees. He’s nibbling on his lip, and his fingers are drumming against his thigh, though, so Liam knows he really is anxious. “I just–I haven’t met them as your boyfriend, before.” 

Liam smiles at that, because it makes him smile whenever Zayn says boyfriend talking about him. Zayn notices, and rolls his eyes, but Liam thinks he’s justified in his smiling. 

“Do you really think they didn’t know how gone I was for you before?” he asks instead, as he turns onto his old street. “I swear, mum asked me every time we talked if you were dating anyone. Think she was giving me hints.” 

“But still–”

“Zayn.” Liam puts the car into park at the curb, then turns fully to look at Zayn. When he sees he’s still frowning, still has that furrow between his brows, Liam lifts his hands to cup Zayn’s face. “Zayn, they’ll love you, because I love you, and because you make me happy. And also because you’re you.” 

And there’s that smile, just like Liam’s was, the one that spreads over Zayn’s face whenever Liam says love to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Liam nods, firmly, and doesn’t move his hands. “Ready?” 

“Okay.” Zayn takes a deep breath, then straightens, so Liam lets his hands drop away. “Time to meet the parents.”


	12. Chapter 12

_**Prompt:** _ _**_**things you said after you kissed me; things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear** _ ** _

 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

It’s low but clear over the noise of the party downstairs, and cuts through the haze of a nice kiss pretty clearly. Zayn shoves at Liam’s chest. It’d be a lot easier if his chest wasn’t so damn nice, if he wasn’t so damn solid and if Zayn didn’t want to climb him so badly, but the principle of the shove’s the same. 

“The fuck?” he demands. That’s not what you want to hear after months of dancing around each other finally culminating in a kiss. Maybe he shouldn’t have–

“No! Shit, fuck, no, Zayn.” Liam shakes his head, like he’s clearing it–like Zayn had thought, pretty damn nice kiss–and grabs at Zayn’s wrist. Why does his hand have to be so fucking big? “No, I meant–I was going to kiss you at midnight. It was going to be really romantic, and–you deserved that, not…this.” He waves a hand around, taking in Zayn’s messy bedroom, the laundry on the floor. 

Oh. Well. Zayn grins and wraps his arms around Liam’s neck. It’s quite nice, how solid he is, how Zayn could climb him so well. “You can kiss me at midnight, too,” he points out. “You should probably keep practicing now.” 

“I–” Zayn doesn’t bother giving him the chance to finish that sentence.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Prompt:** _ **_things you said that i wish you hadn’t_ **

Zayn’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. He has to be dreaming. In real life, in waking life, this isn’t something that happens, but he’s dreamt about it plenty. About Liam in his lap, kissing him almost frantically, his hands holding tight to Zayn’s shoulders. Their breath tastes like whiskey and Zayn thinks maybe he should stop this but he’s wanted this for so long, wanted to dream this dream for so very long, so instead he just melts into it, lets Liam hold him there and kiss him like he’s wanted. 

Liam’s the one who pulls back. His eyes are bloodshot, and he reeks of whiskey, and fuck, Zayn wishes he were drunker, so he wouldn’t notice any of that. “It doesn’t count if I’m drunk, right?” he asks, in that tone he gets when he’s sure Zayn knows the answer. “And it’s you. It–everyone’s attracted to you." 

And there it is. Zayn lets out a long, long breath. "It would count for me,” he tells Liam, and gently as he can gets Liam off his lap, stands up.  

“But–”

“Go to sleep, babe,” Zayn tells him, and when he pushes at Liam’s shoulder he falls back. He’s really trashed. Of course he is. He was kissing Zayn. 

“But it’ll count in the morning,” Liam protests. 

Zayn shakes his head. “You won’t remember in the morning, probably.” Zayn will, but he needs to. It’ll help him remember, next time, that the thing about dreams is eventually, you have to wake up. 


	14. Chapter 14

_**Prompt: things you said when you were jealous** _

“He was just talking,” Zayn protests, but he lets Liam pull him close anyway, wrap a friendly arm around his shoulders. Liam gets weird at bars, has ever since Zayn came out, like he expects every guy Zayn talks to to be some sort of predator. 

“He wasn’t,” Liam argues. He’s not entirely looking at Zayn, studying his pint instead, but his arm’s tight on Zayn’s skin. “He was looking at you.”

“Such a crime.” Liam blushes. It’s cute, how he still can’t always deal with teasing, but Zayn elbows him in the side gently, to make sure he knows it’s just that. 

“No, like. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat or something.” Liam mutters the last bit, and Zayn can’t help but smile at him. At how protective Liam is of his friends. 

“Well, I am pretty hot.”

“But you’re more than just that!” It bursts out of Liam, and now he is looking at Zayn, that earnest look he has that’s managed to convince Zayn of anything. “You’re just–you’re so amazing, and he didn’t even think of any of that, and I–he didn’t deserve you.” He ends it quieter, almost petering out, as he looks away again. 

It almost takes Zayn’s breath away, but he manages a smile. “Keep saying such nice things and you’ll spoil me for any other guy,” he gets out, and rubs his cheek against Liam’s shoulder when he’s still tense. “’s okay, babe. I won’t go off with someone who doesn’t deserve me.” 

“None of them deserve you.”

“Then it looks like I’m stuck here a while longer,” Zayn replies. He can think of worse things. 

Liam mutters something Zayn almost thinks is, “good,” but then he’s turning to the bartender to get Zayn another beer, and his arm is still warm around Zayn’s shoulder, and he forgets to wonder about it.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Prompt:** **it was always you, don't you see?** _

“Me?” Zayn swallows, so he can make his voice a little less of a squeak. “But, you were–I thought you wanted me to set you up with other guys?”

Liam has the grace to look abashed. “So did I,” he admits, “But then I kept going on dates, and I kept realizing they all had one major problem.” 

“What?” Zayn clenches his fingers in the sheets, trying to ground himself against the assault that is Liam’s earnest face and his lips shaping all the words Zayn’s wanted to hear for so long. This has to be a dream, it’s the only answer. 

“They weren’t you.” Liam says, steady and sure. Like he’s sure of Zayn. “I didn’t see it, but I just wanted you.”


	16. Chapter 16

_**Prompt:** **'what happened to all your tattoos?'** _

“Make up.” Zayn shrugs. “For the shoot, I dunno. Model doesn’t ask questions.” He spreads his arms. “How does it look?” 

Liam swallows. Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s been so long since he’s seen Zayn without the ink all over him. It’s a part of him now, all the lines of ink that Liam’s traced, exploring Zayn’s skin little by little, tamping down the guilt of using this excuse to learn Zayn, until he thinks he almost has a full canvas. Now–it’s all gone. 

“Babe?” Zayn’s wry mirth is gone, and he steps forward to cup Liam’s face with his hand–his bare hand, no mandala or bird or any of the other things that make it Zayn. “You okay?” 

At least Zayn’s eyes are the same, hazel and deep, lined in dark lashes, probably made darker from makeup from the shoot. Liam looks into them, into the gentle concern there. “It just…doesn’t look like you,” he admits, quietly. “It’s pretty freaky.” 

“Yeah, Harry said the same thing. Almost couldn’t take my picture.” Zayn’s hand lingers for a second before he lets it drop. Liam resists the urge to cover the place where it had been with his own hand. “I haven’t looked at myself, really. Didn’t want to.” 

“Yeah, it’s…I haven’t seen you like this in years. It’s…” Liam shakes his head. He wishes he was better with words, could figure out what he wanted to say. 

“Made the right choice to get tattoos, then?” Zayn teases. “Am I hideous without them?” 

“LIke you could ever be hideous.” Liam replies easily. “You made your own choice. And it’s weird, like, that you could have made another and everything would have gone differently and you might not have been here.” 

Zayn’s lips curve, and that’s Zayn’s smile too, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and the way his tongue tucks behind his teeth. Something settles in Liam, at that smile. “I’d still be here with you, Liam,” he assures him, so utterly sure that Liam can’t help but believe him. “No matter what.”

There’s a silence, as that declaration fills the room, giving it more weight than it should have. Then, “I’m gonna take a shower. Get you your Zayn back.” 

“Please,” Liam agrees, and Zayn’s laughing as he heads toward the bathroom. Liam shuts his eyes tight. His Zayn, he echoes to himself. His.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Prompt:** _ **"don't i at least get a kiss?"**

Zayn rolls his eyes. The guy’s flirting had been flattering, a nice way to spend the time he’s waiting for his drink before going back to the lads, but now it’s getting old. He shakes his head, pushing his hair back from his face, and he’s ready to just leave when, 

“No.” Zayn does roll his eyes again, but it’s only half at the guys widening eyes this time, and the other half is at the boy behind him, who Zayn knows even before he looks is standing behind Zayn with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. “No, you don’t.” 

“Liam,” Zayn says, and puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t know how many drinks in Liam is, and he’s always confrontational when he’s drunk. “Come on, babe.” 

“You don’t get a kiss.” Liam ignores Zayn to continue glaring at the other guy, who at the very least is backing up. “You were hitting on him and he was trying to leave. Why would you get a kiss from that?” 

The guy’s bristling now, at the implications, and Zayn really just wanted his beer. “Liam,” he says again, and gets his hand on the back of Liam’s neck, where at least the pressure is enough to get him to look at Zayn. “I’ve got my drink. Let’s go.” 

“Fine.” Liam gives the guy another glare, and waits ostentatiously for Zayn to get in front of him so he’s at Zayn’s back as they walk back towards the booth where the lads are sitting. 

Zayn waits until they’re far enough away that Liam’s relaxed a little, before he jabs Liam in the side with his elbow. “You didn’t need to do that.” 

“He shouldn’t have said that,” Liam insists. His arms are still crossed over his chest, and his jaw is set. “He shouldn’t get a kiss. And he shouldn’t have asked for one.” 

Zayn sighs, but it’s painfully fond, for this boy who fights Zayn’s battles even when they don’t exist. “Thanks, babe,” he says, and kisses Liam’s cheek. He can feel the heat of Liam’s skin through his lips, the flush that comes out when he’s drinking. “Even though you didn’t need to.” 

Liam grins, a little sheepish. “He shouldn’t have asked,” he repeats. Like it means more than just the words. “Your kisses aren’t for him.” 


	18. Chapter 18

_**Prompt:** **"I just want to show people that you can do whatever the fuck you want to do".** _

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Liam curls his fingers over Zayn’s forearm, can feel him shaking slightly. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since Zayn’s slept, since he’s eaten, but he knows it’s been too long. “Looks great, Zee.” 

“Not done yet.” 

“You can finish it tomorrow, though.” Liam wants them out of here, out of this empty street where the cops could come at any moment, away from these paint fumes that are turning Zayn’s eyes red to accompany the tears. “Why don’t you eat?” 

“It’s not done yet,” Zayn repeats, and tugs away from Liam’s arm to go back to the wall, to the image growing across the concrete. It’s beautiful, it always is, beautiful and angry and brilliant, like its creator. Or so Liam thinks, it’s not like he knows anything about art. “I’ve got to finish it, Li.” 

“You’re worrying us.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure? Because you did just–”

“I’m fine,” Zayn repeats. It’s not the biggest lie Zayn’s ever told Liam, and it won’t be the last, but still, Liam sometimes wishes Zayn would just trust him with this. Would just let Liam wrap him in his arms and take away all that fruitless anger and manic energy that sent him buzzing out on nights like this. 

“Then can you just eat this sandwich?” Liam suggets. He pulls it out of the bag he’d packed, his Zayn bag, he likes to call it. For nights when he hears Zayn sneaking out, nights when he can see the glint in Zayn’s eye and knows it’s going to be a bad night. “Just one, babe. Then you can go back. I’ll watch, you know I love to watch.” 

“Love to watch, eh?” Zayn laughs, and waggles his eyebrows. It’s almost normal, almost Liam’s Zayn, but he snatches at the sandwich like a wild animal Liam’s trying to tame. He is, a bit; though Liam’s not sure if he’s taming him or keeping him safe. “That what you’re into?” 

“Could be,” Liam shoots back, and Zayn laughs. 

“Nah, not you. You’re vanilla all the way, babe.” 

Liam’s fists clench. He wants to show Zayn just how vanilla he is, to press him against that wall with the paint still drying and make him stay still, to wear him out until he has no choice but to fall asleep, so Liam can carry him back to their flat and take care of him until he’s calm again. Zayn might even let him, in this mood, might do it as another big fuck you to the universe. 

But that’s not how Liam wants Zayn, and it’d be the worst sort of taking advantage, he thinks. So instead he sighs. “Just eat your sandwich, so we can go home.” 

Zayn glances at the painting. “It’s not done,” he says again, almost a plea. “I’ve got to finish it.” 

Liam knows what all the victory he’s going to get sounds like. “Okay,” he agrees, and sits back to watch Zayn paint, to watch him get everything out until Liam can take him home. 


	19. Chapter 19

_**Prompt:** _ **_things you didn’t say at all_ **

Zayn’s quiet, as they head home. It’s not the good sort of quiet, like when they’re curled up together on the couch and Zayn’s reading as Liam watches TV, or when Zayn traces over Liam’s tattoos in bed, smiling sappily at him. It’s the sort of quiet he gets when he gets too far into his head. 

Liam waits, to see if Zayn’s going to talk, as they walk home. Zayn’s hand’s still tight around his, so Liam’s not actually worried. He just…doesn’t know what could have brought this one. it was a nice dinner, with Harry and his new boyfriend Niall. It’s cute, how in love they are, Liam thinks, and squeezes Zayn’s hand. It’s nice how in love they are. 

“They’re good together, aren’t they?” Liam asks, as they get back to Liam’s flat. Though it honestly might as well be both of theirs, so much of Zayn’s stuff is here–his sweater over the back of the couch, his sketchpad on the couch, his book open on the table. All the little bits of him, like he’s left bits of himself in Liam’s heart. 

“Yeah.” Zayn still sounds pensive. He toes off his boots, sets them against the wall. Liam follows suit, then goes to the couch, pulling Zayn down next to him. Nothing gets Zayn out of his head like cuddling. Zayn goes easily, turns into Liam, so his head rests on Liam’s cheek. 

“I’m happy for Harry. He’s clearly so into Niall. Wouldn’t shut up about him, would he?” Liam keeps talking, for something to do. 

Zayn shrugs, worrying at his lips. “Were you trying to compete, babe?”

If it was anyone else saying it, Liam might blush. He hadn’t been competing, really. He just…talked about Zayn that much. He liked to talk about Zayn. The best subject there was. “Nah, that’s how much I talk about you normally. How else is everyone supposed to know my boyfriend’s the most amazing guy in the world?” 

Usually, that sort of compliment gets Zayn to grin, his big bright smile that crinkles his eyes, or gets him to look at Liam like he’s the center of his world, but now Zayn glances down at his hands. Liam’s starting to get nervous, honestly. He thought everything was good. But now Zayn’s not saying something that’s bothering him, and…if he’s breaking up with Liam, or if something’s wrong–Liam’s not sure what he’d do, without Zayn. 

“Zayn?” Liam lifts Zayn’s chin with his hand. Zayn’s still biting his lip. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

Zayn shakes his head, but Liam won’t let him get away with that. he knows how important communication is, and if something is wrong–it’s better to rip off the bandaid. God, Liam hopes nothing’s wrong. 

“I just…” Zayn swallows, but he meets Liam’s eyes squarely, like he does when he’s nervous and doesn’t want to admit it. “Do you mind, that I don’t, like. I don’t go on like that, about you? Talk about you all the time, like Harry was with Niall?” 

Liam’s breath goes out of him. It’s just that? Thank god. 

Zayn must not understand his breath, because he hurries on. “I’m sorry, if you want I can try more, but just, like, Harry was going on and on and so were you and I don’t do that, and it’s–I never noticed before, really. It’s not that I don’t love you, I just don’t talk like that, but I can try, if you need it, I–”

“Zayn!” and Liam’s laughing, he’s so relieved. Laughing, and putting a finger to Zayn’s lips, so Zayn has to quiet. “Zayn, no, I don’t mind. I don’t need you to say all that.” 

“I should, though,” Zayn insists, against Liam’s finger. Liam ignores the shiver that goes over him, at Zayn’s lips against his skin. “You deserve that. I’ll try, I promise–”

“You do.” Liam moves his hand so he’s cupping Zayn’s face, keeping him looking at him. He just–he loves Zayn so much, he doesn’t know how he exists for loving him, sometimes. For this man who just wants the best of him. “Trust me, I know, Zayn. You don’t have to say it, when you touch me and look at me and make me tea in the morning even when you hate waking up and listen to me talk about work and smile at me and–Zayn, I know you love me. You don’t have to say it all the time.” 

“Good,” It’s fierce, but Zayn’s smiling when he does, the smile that’s just Liam’s, so fond and loving it takes Liam’s breath away, and how could Zayn ever think he didn’t know how much he loved him when Zayn looks at him like that? “Because I do love you. So much.” 

“I know,” Liam repeats, swears, vows. 

“Well.” Suddenly, Zayn’s leg’s over his lap, and Zayn’s straddling him, grinning down at him, and now the smile’s almost predatory, and yeah, Liam knows. “Does that mean you don’t want me to prove it?” 

“Um.” Liam swallows, because he thinks all the blood’s gone from his brain. No one does this to him like Zayn does. “Yeah, no. You can do that.” 

Zayn, Liam knows, is much better at showing than telling. And he can’t say he objects. 


	20. Chapter 20

_**Prompt:** **Reacting to the other one crying about something** _

Liam pauses in the doorway at the sight in the couch. Zayn’s got his knees up under his chin, a blanket around him, which is a pose Liam knows perfectly well he only goes into when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, and more than that, his eyes are red and he’s sniffling as he stares at the screen. 

“You okay, babe?” he asks, moving into the room. Zayn jumps, rubbing his eyes as he looks up, like that’ll hide the evidence of his tears. 

“Fine.” His voice is stuffy, but Liam doesn’t point that out. Instead, he walks over to the couch and sits down next to Zayn, so he can see the screen. When he does, he has to laugh. 

“Shut up.” Zayn pushes at Liam’s arm, but it’s not hard. “I’ve seen you cry at movies before, you don’t get to laugh at me.” 

“I’m not laughing.” Liam tries his best to make that true, but he probably ends up just looking helplessly amused and fond, which he gets out by turning his head to press a kiss to Zayn’s hair. Zayn grumbles, and wipes his eyes again. 

“It’s sad.” 

“I know.” 

“I’d like to see you watch it without crying.” 

“I couldn’t,” Liam admits easily. “And you can laugh at me when I start crying.” 

“I will,” Zayn assures him. He hands Liam half of the blanket, rearranges the computer between them, and hits play. 

Liam does end up crying. Zayn doesn’t actually laugh at him, because he’s crying too. 


	21. Chapter 21

_**Prompt: Zayn is a mermaid and Liam the human sailor he falls in love with?** _

1) The irony of it is, Zayn’s never had a fascination with the shore world at all. He’s not like Harry, who’s always spying and collecting and listening to stories. He likes the sea and his friends there, his family. He doesn’t need more. But then he hears the singing, and well. Music’s always been his one temptation. 

2) Liam is certainly surprised by the head that pops up on the edge of the ship as he hums to keep himself awake at the late watch. He’s heard the tales about these seas, but he thought it was just that, tales. But he knows what it is the minute it looks at him, water dripping down it’s long hair around a face that’s the most beautiful Liam’s ever seen. Liam knows the stories, of the sailors who’ve drowned for the beauty of the mermaids in these seas–but he keeps singing as he looks into its eyes, and he only sees kindness there. 

3) the land-man is…odd, Zayn thinks. he’s not had an interaction with them before, but Harry’s told stories, and usually there’s screaming, apparently. But this one doesn’t scream, he just smiles and keeps singing, even though Zayn knows he’s been seen, because he’s always been shit at hiding. But he smiles and sings, and Zayn keeps listening until the sun rises and land-people start to move around. The land-man just waves a hand to watch him go. “I hope you liked my song!” he says, hopeful, as Zayn gets ready to drop back into the sea. “Maybe next time you can share some of yours.” Zayn just gives him a wideeyed look, and disappears with a flick of his tail. He’s not sure there should be a next time. 

4) Liam doesn’t expect the merman to show up again, but he’s there the next day, still more beautiful than anything Liam’s ever seen before.  He doesn’t talk that night either, or the next, but one night Liam pauses in his singing–and the merman begins to sing too. It’s as beautiful and otherworldly as his face, haunting and sad and joyful all at once, and it makes Liam think of the family he’d lost in the epidemic, of the joys he’d had with them. It reminds him how lonely he’d been, and then fills up all the loneliness, whispered that he’s not alone now. Liam’s crying by the end of it, and the merman’s eyes are wide in a way he knows means he’s about to go. “No,” he cries, before he can disappear. “They’re not bad tears.” 

5) They begin to talk after that night. To talk and to learn about each other, and Zayn, as Liam’s learned he’s called, is, well. he’s amazing. He listens to Liam and tells Liam the wonders of the sea, tells Liam about his family and his friends and all the places he goes. It sounds amazing. More than that, though, is Zayn himself, his humor and his smile and Liam knows what he feels long before he should, because Zayn is magical and beautiful and he’s just a sailor, and not of his world. 

6) the storm strikes suddenly, before Zayn can warn Liam of it. It’s sudden and huge and violent, and Zayn watches from underwater as the masts crack and men run around the deck, his tail thrashing in terrified impotence. He can see Liam, because he can always see Liam, can feel him in his scales and in his blood, and then something’s on fire and something else cracks and Zayn sees, his heart in his throat, as Liam falls. Liam falls, and hits the water, and Zayn doesn’t hesitate, but he’s far from Zayn, and unconscious, and Zayn knows the only way to save him. 

7) Liam wakes slowly. The light is odd, filtered somehow, and he’s no where he recognizes. The last thing he remembers is falling, and hitting the water–and then Zayn, Zayn’s face and the gold of his tail, and–and Zayn’s face is here too, craned over him, pulling back when he sees Liam’s awake. “Don’t hate me,” is what he says, “It was the only way to save you.” Liam might be slow to come back to himself but he’s slowly registering the fact that they’re in water. That they’re in water, and his legs feel off–because they aren’t legs. they’re a tail, like Zayn’s, and he’s–he’s here with Zayn, and Zayn’s still looking at him terrified, but he’s here and in this magic place and Zayn saved him, and no. He can’t hate him. He can only love him. 


	22. Chapter 22

_**Prompt: harry potter** _

  * Zayn is the first person Liam meets on the Hogwarts Express. He ends up sitting in a compartment with four other boys, and the other three are so loud and excited and Liam’s so nervous–but Zayn, who he doesn’t know yet is _Zayn_  is quiet and reassuring and talking to him makes the whole thing feels less scary. It means Liam’s disappointed when Zayn’s sorted into Ravenclaw because he knows he isn’t one, but Zayn finds him at breakfast the next day at the Gryffindor table, shyly wondering if he’d like to explore the castle later. 
  *  Zayn goes to all of Liam’s Quidditch games, even though he kind of hates Quidditich. Louis calls it blatant favoritism, because he never went in the year when Louis was on the team and Liam wasn’t. Zayn just laughs and agrees that it is, and Liam blushes but can’t help his smile. 
  * Zayn realizes he’s in love with Liam in third year, when he sees Liam in Care of Magical Creatures playing with a nixie. He immediately shuts it down, because Liam’s his best friend and he’s not into guys and he’s not into Zayn, so he ignores it. He’ll ignore it for four years, so well Liam never even guesses. 
  * Liam realizes he’s in love with Zayn the summer before seventh year. They’re all staying at Harry’s for a week before school starts, and so Liam gets the owl there, telling him he’s made quidditch captain. The other boys all pile on him in a hug, even Louis who really could have gotten it, but Zayn waits until after they’ve all let go to hug him, and he’s smiling so big and proud, and Liam wants to kiss him. 
  * Liam does kiss Zayn, the first time, down by the lake. It’s late November, almost winter, and there’s snow in the air and Zayn’s cheeks are flushed with cold despite the charms on his jacket and scarf, and he’s rubbing his fingers so Liam has to grab his hands for him, to warm him up. Then he can’t not kiss him, because there’s snow in Zayn’s eyelashes and he’s pouting from the cold and Liam loves him so much, and it’s Zayn, he won’t be mean even if he does reject him. Instead Zayn kisses him back, and it’s more magical than anything else Liam’s seen in the past six years. 




	23. Chapter 23

Zayn is in love with Liam, and they both know it, and they’re both sort of okay with it. It’s just a thing in their friendship–Zayn and Liam are best friends, Zayn’s in love with Liam, it is what it is. They don’t talk about it much, but they both know it’s there. BUT THEN. Liam starts thinking maybe, just maybe, he’s falling for Zayn too. He doesn’t know what sets it out, but suddenly Zayn’s Zaynness is hitting him hard, the way his eyes sparkle when he laughs, the way Liam wants to hug him and never let him go, the way he never ever puts down anything Liam wants to do, or at least not meanly. But Liam can’t say anything, can he? Not when he’s not sure, because he’s never really been good with feelings or introversion, and he knows what this would mean to Zayn. He can’t say anything until he’s certain it’s more than just a crush, that it really is love, but it’s hard to be sure of that. And Liam would rather do anything than hurt Zayn, so he is determined to be sure. Which ends in Liam pining for a boy he knows is in love with him, and probably a lot of mixed signals until Zayn’s all mixed up. And when Zayn finally comes to him, mumbling things about how he’s sorry it’s been weird lately he’ll try to rein it in more he’s probably been doing too much–that’s when Liam knows it’s real. Because he’s spent so long trying not to hurt Zayn, and now knowing that trying hurt Zayn too is worse than anything. Kisses! Gentle tender sex where Zayn’s still incredulous Liam wants it and Liam’s incredulous because Zayn. Happily ever after!


	24. Chapter 24

_**Prompt: getting married au** _

  1. Liam has a freak out, right before the wedding. It takes Louis, Harry, and Andy to talk him down, to point out that he deserves Zayn and Zayn loves him and Zayn is not going to realize he’s wants more than Liam can offer him after being in love with him for ten years. Zayn, meanwhile, never falters. He’s known he wanted forever with Liam for a decade, and he can’t wait to start. 
  2. They write their own vows. There are copious superhero references in them, and everyone agrees its adorable. It would be hard not to, given how big they’re both smiling, both their eyes crinkling at the corners. 
  3. They’d joked, before, about doing some big dip for their first kiss, but the moment it comes Liam knows he can’t. He just wants his hands on Zayn, wants to kiss him as his husband, and he knows Zayn feels the same, so it’s just a them pressed together like always, Zayn’s hand on Liam’s neck and Liam’s on his waist, holding them together. 
  4. Liam leads their first dance, because Zayn had refused to, claiming he’d just mess it up and he trusts Liam. He does, and this is nicer anyway, he thinks, being able to just tuck his head into Liam’s neck and sway with him, to breathe in the scent of his husband. To hear as Liam murmurs the lyrics to a love song in his ear, because he’s a sap, and to hide a smile he knows Liam feels against his skin. 
  5. Zayn smushes the cake into Liam’s face. Liam just licks it off, laughing. It may have been a miscalculation on Zayn’s part, to see Liam working his tongue like that when he can’t get his husband alone for hours yet, but it’s worth it, to start their married life off laughing. 




	25. Chapter 25

_**Prompt: "I don't want your help, I want you safe"** _

“That’s bullshit.” The fire flares, and for a moment Zayn’s face is clear in the forest darkness, the lines and planes of his face. Then he takes a deep breath, and the fire dies down again, until Zayn is just shadows and firelight.

“It’s not,” Liam insists. He glances around, at the forest. Who knows what dangers are there, lurking in the trees outside the circle of the fire. The forest is dangerous. Everyone knows that. “This is my quest. I can’t–” he takes a breath. Why is saying this harder than any battle he’s ever fought? “I can’t do it if I’m worrying about you.”

“Then you won’t have to worry. Are you saying I can’t take care of myself?”

“I’m saying that you’re shit with a sword, Zayn.”

“And I’m saying that doesn’t mean I’m helpless.” Zayn crosses his arms, juts his chin out obstinately. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” Liam tries to placate him. He needs Zayn to agree to go back, before they get too deep into the forest. Before they get to the places the monsters hunt. Liam needs to be here, for duty and glory and the love he holds for the king, but Zayn doesn’t. He needs Zayn safe at home, so he has something to come back to. Something to fight for, so he knows the stakes if he fails. He won’t fail, if he’s fighting to keep Zayn safe. He’s always known that. “But you’ve never been outside the castle.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Zayn’s eyes are sparking in the firelight. God, he’s beautiful. “Liam. Are you really saying I’m powerless?”

He tilts his head, and for a second, Liam remembers the power that does swim beneath his skin. There’s a reason he’s never left the castle. There’s a reason the king didn’t want that sort of magic out of his reach, in case he got captured and all that magic is turned to the service of another kingdom. Zayn’s the kingdom’s prize, and Liam’s spent so long hearing Zayn complain about how confining that makes him feel that sometimes he forgets why it’s true.

“No. But. You haven’t been trained.”

“I have been.” Liam makes a face, and Zayn laughs, humorlessly. “Do you really think I haven’t learned battle magic? What do you think the king was keeping me for? My cantrips?”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Liam tries to say it as certainly as he can. “I swore an oath–”

“To keep the kingdom safe. So did I.” The fire flares again, and Liam can see the sparks of Zayn’s magic in it, the heat of it. It’s never felt like it could burn. “And even if I hadn’t–I’m not letting you go alone.”

“Zayn–”

“Do you really think you can make me go back?”

Liam knows he can’t. He might be the most promising of the king’s knights, but Zayn’s magic is on a scale no one’s seen before. “I could knock you out when you were sleeping.”

“You couldn’t.” Zayn says it with the surety of ancient rocks, of ocean waves. “Liam. I’m coming.” He stands, and Liam can only watch as he crosses to Liam’s side of the fire, sits down next to Liam, so he can tuck himself against Liam, like they’re boys again, before Zayn’s magic came thundering into him. When everything was simple, and Liam saw his whole future in his best friend’s face. “Liam. I need you safe. And this is how I can do that.” He turns his face, so his nose is against Liam’s throat, over the leather of his armor.

Liam sighs. “I guess having a mage around couldn’t hurt.”

Zayn lifts his head, and Liam’s always thought that smile was where all his magic came out, his eyes sparkling, his whole face glowing with pleasure. HIs heart thumps painfully.

“We’ll be the best,” Zayn assures Liam, patting him on the knee. Liam’s not sure if it’s his magic or just Zayn that makes him warmer with the touch. “And no one will hurt you.”

Nor you, Liam swears to himself, as Zayn cuddles into Liam and turns back to the fire, urging it higher. Nor you.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Prompt: They've been cordial since the band split but it's been awhile. they see each other at the Grammy awards where they are nominated for the same award.** _

Liam takes a breath, when he sees that familiar back, but he’d resolved to say it, and he–it’ll be fine. They’re fine. 

“Hey, Zayn.” He taps Zayn on the shoulder, and he’s, well, he doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but Zayn gives him the same wide, bright-eyed grin he’d always given Liam when Liam surprised him somewhere. Or maybe not always; maybe it’s the one he’d gotten more of in the beginning. 

“Hey, Liam,” Zayn nods. It feels like they should hug, but people are watching, and Liam doesn’t want Zayn to pull away. 

“I just wanted to say, um. I think you should win. Your album’s great, it’s…you deserve it.” 

The hand Zayn raises to rub at his ear is so normal Liam barely even processes the nervous gesture. 

“Nah, man. Like, yours is sick. You should definitely win.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

Zayn grins, quick and wicked, and for a second Liam’s eighteen again, watching Zayn like he wasn’t sure he was real. “Nah, not really. But if I have to lose, I’d rather it be to you than anyone else.” 

“Same,” Liam agrees, and then steels himself, nods, and, and sticks out his hand. “Loser buys the winner a drink?” 

Zayn’s hand is warm as it always has been, the same long fingers, the cool of his rings. “I’m gonna order the most expensive thing in the bar.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Liam laughs, and maybe he’s not eighteen, but he’s still not sure Zayn is real. 


	27. Chapter 27

_**Prompt:** **“I swear it was an accident.”** _

“So.” Zayn exhales smoke, because it gives him time to think. Time not to look at Liam’s, who’s giving him that earnest, worried look that makes Zayn want to swear he’ll never let anything hurt him ever again. Except this time it’s different. This time, he doesn’t want to feel that, because he’s mad at Liam. Or confused. Or something. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Liam swallows, then sets his shoulders. It’s the way he gets when he’s going to do something unpleasant, which isn’t the most flattering thing ever. Zayn gets it, though. He sort of feels like he’s facing the firing squad. Though for very different reasons than Liam, he expects.

“I swear it was an accident.” If Zayn hadn’t been expecting something like that, it probably would have been devastating, he thinks. As it is, it’s just one more dull ache.

“An accident,” he repeats. “Kissing me was an accident. Did you trip and fall onto my lips?”

He hadn’t. Zayn knows he hadn’t, is the worst part. He’d been drunk, it’s true, but he’d known it was Zayn when he kissed him–had given him that big, puppyish grin and caught Zayn’s waist between his hands and mumbled something about how happy Zayn made him before he’d kissed him. There hadn’t been mistaken identity, there hadn’t been anything like that. But if that’s what Liam wants to claim, Zayn guesses he can give him the out. It’s better than the alternative, of letting Zayn down gently.

“Not an accident like that,” Liam explains. Still so fucking earnest. If Zayn didn’t love him, he thinks he might hate him. “Just–I didn’t mean to. I was drunk, and I didn’t mean to, you know, act on anything, and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods, as if satisfied by that.

Zayn could almost laugh. Uncomfortable is one word for what it made him. Instead, he takes another drag on his cigarette. “Okay. Then we’re good?”

He can almost see some sort of argument play out behind Liam’s eyes. “No,” Liam says at last. “Or, yeah, we’re good, but–you kissed me too, right? I remember that.”

Zayn had been hoping he hadn’t. Had been hoping no one had seen how he’d melted into Liam’s touch, how he’d barely even questioned it before he’d been embarrassingly, frantically eager. He’d have done anything Liam asked then. He just wishes Liam hadn’t realized that.

“Yeah,” Zayn admits. “But–”

“You kissed me back,” Liam repeats, cutting off whatever explanation Zayn had been planning to make, so he wouldn’t know how pathetically, ridiculously in love with Liam he was.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees again. He drops the cigarette to the ground, grinds it out with the heel of his boot. “Then you puked on my shoes, and I put you to bed. Now we’ve had the run down of last night, and we’ve talked about everything, so let’s go in, yeah? We can play FIFA. I’ll let you win.”

“Zayn.” Liam catches his forearm, before he can turn away. Before he can go hide and regroup until he can push Liam back into the ‘best friend’ box and shut all those feelings into the back of his mind where they belong. “Why?”

An accident, Zayn wants to say. It was an accident. But it wouldn’t hurt Liam like Zayn sort of wants it to, not like it hurt Zayn. “We don’t have to discuss this.”

“Yes we do. We had to talk about why I kissed you, so we can talk about this.” Liam widens his stance, like he’ll physically block Zayn from going anywhere. Coupled with his puppy dog eyes, it’s like he was made to make Zayn helpless. “Why did you kiss me back?”

“That’s what you do when someone kisses you,” Zayn tells him, and tries to take a step back, but Liam’s hand is firm on his arm, keeping him pinned. “It’s just, that’s–you’re the one who kissed me!” They need to remember that. This is on Liam, not him.

Liam tugs on his arm, draws him in. Zayn trips forward, helpless against him, like always. “You’d kiss anyone like that?” he asks. HIs voice is lower than usual.

Zayn swallows. “Let’s go inside, Liam.” He’s being obvious, he knows he is. He is obvious, everyone says so. He’s just been lucky Liam isn’t the most observant person. But now it looks like that luck might be running out.

“It was only an accident because it happened then.” Liam’s other hand is on Zayn’s neck now. It’s only two points of contact; Zayn could probably pull away if he wanted to, but he can’t. It’s like Liam’s got him trapped more than physically, something about the determined look in his eyes, the hope in the corners of his mouth. “If I kissed you now, it wouldn’t be an accident.”

“Liam–”

“Would you kiss me back again, if I kissed you now?” Liam asks, just above a whisper. Zayn can hardly hear it over the beating of his heart. The only reason he isn’t trembling is because he refuses to. “That’s what you do, right? When someone kisses you?”

“Liam,” Zayn says again, but this time he’s not sure if it’s a protest or a plea, or maybe just a statement, everything he’s ever felt wrapped up in that one word.

“Not an accident, wanted to do this forever,” Liam murmurs, then he’s kissing Zayn again, and Zayn knows he should be wary, that he doesn’t know what this means, but he can’t help melt under Liam’s hands and lips again, hoping against hope it might mean something to Liam too.


	28. Chapter 28

**_so I was watching the interview with Liam about Zayn “distancing” himself and I was thinking about how we’ve only ever heard that from Liam and the other boys, not from Zayn, and that there’s always two sides to a story and, well, this happened:_ **

Liam answers the phone without looking at the caller ID. That’s probably stupid, he knows, but he’s on the way to meet Sophia and he doesn’t have time and he doesn’t think this number’s leaked. It can’t be anything important, not this early, anyway.

“Hello, Liam Payne,” he answers, pulling on his shirt.

There’s no answer for a second, just breathing, but Liam freezes anyway. He knows that breath, and he doesn’t care to think about what that means, but he knows, without checking, who is on the other line.

“Zayn?” It makes sense he’d call, Liam guesses, with the album and shit. It’s not like they haven’t talked since March, they’ve chatted a few times. Of course he’d call to congratulate them, Zayn’s sentimental like that, it makes sense.

“It’s not true, you know.” Liam’s breath catches a little, at his voice. It’s just—it’s good to hear him. And somewhere, in the parts of him he doesn’t like to admit, the parts that understand how Louis rages, he likes that no matter how pensive Zayn is trying to sound, he sounds hurt. Because Liam knows what Zayn’s hurt sounds like, better than anyone else, even over the phone.

“What isn’t?” Liam asks. He could have known, once, could have read Zayn’s mind basically, but not now, apparently. Not from across two continents and however many hours time difference and however much emotional distance goes with that.

Zayn sighs over the phone. Liam can’t help doing the math, figuring out how late he’s up, if he should tell him to go to sleep before he remembers he’s not needed for that anymore.

“I’m not, like, distancing myself, or whatever you said. I guess it could feel like that, but, like, Liam, I’ve been here whenever you wanted me.”

Liam falls back onto the bed. It looks like he’s going to be late. “What, in the interview? That’s just shit I say Zayn, you know, I can’t—” Can’t say what it really feels like, like you decided we weren’t enough. That you moved across the world to avoid us. That I don’t even know why you left. That I don’t know how to talk to you anymore because you don’t fit in my categories anymore.

“Yeah, I do know, and I know you, Liam. I know all of you. And, I mean.” He lets out another breath, and Liam knows without wanting to that it means Zayn scrubbing his face with his hands, like he used to do talking to Ant, curled up on the bunk in the bus, before coming out and plopping onto the couch with his feet in Louis’s lap and his head against Liam’s shoulder. “I know we’re not, like, what we were, or whatever, but that’s just—I never said that because I don’t want to be co-dependent anymore I didn’t want to be friends. That was you all.”

“We never—”

“I’m not the one who decided to start shit on twitter,” Zayn goes on, firm like he always got when pushed too far, unyielding. “I’m still, like, I’m not disavowing you guys or anything. Not like you are.”

Liam doesn’t bother saying that it wasn’t him starting shit, because he knows that’s not the point. Because he knows how the band works, and it’s all for one and one for all, what one does falls on the others too, so he might not have done it but he as good as, sort of. And anyway, that’s not the point.

“You left, Zayn.” That’s the heart of it.

“Yeah, I left the band. I—”

“You left and moved to LA and made new friends and got a new deal,” Liam keeps going, all of the things he can’t say on air bubbling up in him. “You’re the one who left us behind, without even a real explanation, and yeah, you distanced—”

“I quit my job. I quit my job and I moved. None of that means—like, fuck, Liam. Am I supposed to be blowing up your phone reporting my every move? I didn’t do that even before I left.”

“You didn’t have to! You were here.”

“Exactly!” Zayn’s voice snaps out, suddenly enough that it makes Liam jump. Zayn’s anger’s always a bit much for him, shown rarely enough that it’s shocking. “I’m not there! That doesn’t mean I don’t love you!”

Liam’s breath is harsh. “Feels like it.”

He can almost hear the anger fade from Zayn, into something tight and cold. “I get that I hurt you all, yeah? But like. Don’t put this all on me. I’m not the one who didn’t even congratulate you on your success. I didn’t decide not being there all the time meant we couldn’t have any contact at all. I didn’t distance myself, Liam.” The words bite out, into Liam. “That was you all.”

“Zayn—”

“If you ever feel like I exist again, I’ll answer the phone, for any of you. Hope your album release goes well.” Liam expects the phone to slam then, but instead, rushed and a bit too harsh, like he’s proving a point. “Love you. Love you all.”

The line goes dead, and Liam stares at the phone. He hadn’t—he hadn’t meant it like that, he thinks. He’s not sure. He doesn’t know anymore, never knows, and yet somehow he’s the one who has to say all of it, while Louis makes faces and Harry and Niall just sit there. Like it’s not hurting all of them. He wonders—wonders if any of them have said anything to Zayn, since March. If any of them did text him about RCA. Harry might have, he thinks; he’s been a bit less wrapped up in the anger and the hurt. Liam had meant to, but he—he hadn’t been able to figure out what to say, and then it had gotten late enough it would have been weird.

Slowly, he gets to his feet. He needs to meet Sophia. She’ll know what to do, maybe. Know if he should even tell the boys about this, or if it will just hurt them more. If knowing that Zayn still loves them will make it better or worse. If knowing that he’ll pick up will make calling easier or harder.

He doesn’t know. It feels like his constant state since March. He just doesn’t know.  


	29. Chapter 29

_**Prompt: famous zayn/non-famous liam where they used to know/like/love each other and then zayn made it big and they are not in contact anymore** _

“It’s not a code red unless you’re dying,” Liam says, as he drops into the booth next to Niall so he can properly glare at Louis. “And you don’t look like you’re dying.”

“I could be dying, you wouldn’t know,” Louis retorts. Niall snorts. Liam doesn’t know why he went along with this in the first place, except for the fact that neither of them are good at saying no to Louis. “And this is definitely a code red, and you will love me forever for this.”

“I doubt it.”

“I don’t.” Louis’s smirking, which never bodes well. “Zayn—”

“I don’t care what he did,” Liam snaps. Louis likes to tease him about it, and maybe it’s fanboying a little, but he doesn’t know Zayn. None of the media does, not really, for all they like to pick him apart, and it’s not fair. “He’s only human, I don’t know what the media said you know how much harsher they are on him than they are on anyone else. He’s got a good heart, I know that.”

Louis’s still smirking, which bodes even worse, honestly. Niall is patting his leg, which is even worse. “That’s good to know, head of the Zayn Malik fan club. But I was going to say, well—”

“Look over there!” Niall interrupts, pointing to a booth a few down from theirs. Liam leans out to look.

His first sight is of the man facing them, chestnut curls and a brightly patterned shirt and a face Liam recognizes, if vaguely. And if Harry Styles is here…

Liam would like to say that after ten years he doesn’t recognize the back of that head, the set of his shoulders. He’s changed in ten years, after all, isn’t the scrawny teenager he’d been, and Liam had only watched that change on TV and in pictures. But Liam can’t say that, because he recognizes it instantly, as thousands of other fans probably would.

“Zayn is here!” he yelps, and scrambles back into the booth. “What the fuck, Louis?”

 

“I told you you’d love me.” Louis crosses his arms over his chest. “You are free to pay me in alcohol.”

“He—why is he here?” Liam repeats. If he cranes a little, he can see the top of Zayn’s head. It’s a weird flashback to school, to when Zayn had sat four seats in front of him and he’d just been able to see the back of his head if he sat just right.

“I don’t know. But that is Zayn Malik and Harry Style, in the flesh.”

“I—” Liam’s mouth opens and closes. “Yeah.”

“So are you going to say hi?” Niall asks, excited. “I’ve always wanted to meet a superstar.”

“No. Obviously.”

“But you were friends, you can totally say hi!” Louis protests. Liam dodges the kick he knows is coming. “You don’t have to mention that you’ve memorized every one of his albums.”

“Shut up,” Liam retorts. “And we weren’t friends,” he adds, muttering. They weren’t. Not when he’d just been Liam, and even then, Zayn had been….Zayn. Just because Zayn had been one of the few people who’d been nice to him, who’d stood up for him, who’d apologized for how he’d had to miss Liam’s sixteenth birthday because he’d been out of town but had brought Liam a cookie in apology—that didn’t make them friends. That had made Liam’s crush on him just as ridiculous and hopeless then as it was now.

“Whatever, you knew each other. Enough that you can go talk to him.”

“No. No, Louis, what—” But it was too late. Louis was up, out of his seat, and Liam swore and scrambled after him, because who knew what Louis could do. Niall laughs and follows, like he doesn’t realize Liam’s about to be humiliated forever and feels like a teenager again because of it.

“You’re Zayn Malik!” Louis announces, when he gets to the table.

“What?” It’s the first time Liam’s heard his voice in person in ten years, and it feels the same as when he was sixteen, the rough drawl of it, the way it shivers in Liam’s spine. Even when it sounds uncomfortable and put upon, when Louis’s intruding into his lunch. “Um, yeah, I mean. Hi.”

“Louis!” Too late, Liam catches up to him, grabs his arms so he can pull Louis away. “Come on, stop. Sorry,” he tells the table, trying not to stare at them. At Zayn, at how he’s only more beautiful in person than in videos and pictures, all a prettiness that is somehow both intensely masculine and utterly ethereal. “He didn’t mean to bug you, you can have lunch, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Well isn’t that polite,” Harry Styles drawls, and Liam catches a glimpse of the famous dimpled smile that’s charmed millions of movie-goers. “I like this town, Zayn. He can sign something for you, if you want.”

“Thanks, Haz.” And there’s Zayn’s voice again. “Really love being volunteered.”

Louis’s broken free from Liam now, twisting out of his grip so he can plant his feet. Fucking hell. “That’d be great. Can you make it out to—”

“Liam?” Liam’s going to save that up forever, the sound of Zayn Malik saying his name. “Liam Payne, yeah? From Bradford.”

For a second, Liam’s mouth opens and closes.

“He means yes,” Niall jumps in, and sometimes Liam loves him. “Yes, this is Liam Payne, once of Bradford.”

“Sick!” Now Liam has to look right at them, at Zayn grinning, big and wide. “Dunno if you remember, we went to school together—”

“I remember.” Oh, does Liam remember.

“It’s weird running into you here! Come on, sit down. Budge up, Harry.”

“Budge up,” Harry mutters, but he’s smiling. “See how I’m being replaced.”

“No one could replace you. Who else would make all the bad jokes?” Zayn retorts. Then, to Liam, “Sit down. Your friends can come too.”

“We’d love to,” Louis announces, and sits down next to Harry. Niall slides in after him. “I’m Louis, by the way, and this is Niall. I guess one of the perks of being famous is you don’t have to introduce yourselves?”

Zayn snorts. “You’d be surprised, actually.” He glances up at Liam, and his eyes are the same liquid hazel that they were as a teenager, still looking too big for his face, rimmed in dark, dark lashes. “Gonna sit down?”

There’s nothing for it. Liam has to sit down, and the only place left is next to Zayn. Luckily, the booth is big enough he doesn’t have to get close, because he’s not sure he’d survive that. He’s not sure he’ll survive this, if he’s being honest; he feels sixteen and unsure again, all his hard-won confidence drained away in the face of Zayn Malik’s smile.  

“Liam,” Zayn tells Harry, leaning forward like it’s a secret. “Is the reason I passed maths and graduated.”

“That’s not true,” Liam protests. He’d tutored Zayn, sure, but Zayn had clearly never really needed it. He’d been brilliant at everything he touched.

“Really?” Louis turns to Liam, his glare accusing. “You said you barely knew him.”

“I did,” Liam mutters. He can’t be sure he won’t kick Harry, so he doesn’t try, but he wishes he could. “Or, I didn’t.”

“Ouch,” Harry laughs, but Zayn gives him a sidelong glance that Liam refuses to meet.

Louis doesn’t know, is the thing. He’d told him and Niall some, because having gone to school with an international superstar is cool, but they don’t know, not really. They don’t know that the last time he’d talked to Zayn, it had been in the thick heat of a summer night, and Zayn had been laughing as he’d been called to the stage to do his karaoke at the graduation party. How he’d murmured, “wait for me, yeah? I’ll be right back,” before he’d gone on stage. How Liam had pressed his fingers to his lips as he watched him jog over to the stage, his whole body still melting from the fact that he’d kissed Zayn Malik.

They don’t know any of that. So, “I didn’t want to presume,” Liam tells Zayn, trying to be quiet even though he can feel himself blush. “And we didn’t hang out or anything.”

“Nah, different crowds,” Zayn admits.

“Don’t be offended,” Louis tells Zayn. “He’s still your biggest fan.”

“Louis!” Liam snaps, but it’s too late. Zayn’s turned to look at him straight on, and he brushes back a strand of his hair that’s fallen into his face as he gives Liam a smile that’s almost shy.

“Yeah?” he asks, and he bites his lip. “Really? You’re a fan?”

“Well—”

“He defends you on twitter,” Niall pipes up. Liam is going to kill his friends. “He’s gone on some pretty intense rants, you should see ‘em.”

“Well, like.” Liam looks down to trace the salt on the table. He can’t look at Zayn like that, with that vulnerability that he’s always seen beneath the sheen, that’s kept him hooked for ten years. “People are unfair, with what they say. I just tell them they’re wrong.”

“That’s…” Liam can just see Zayn shake his head.

“Creepy?” Liam says, trying not to sound as bitter as he is. Why did Niall have to say any of that?

“No, it’s sweet.” Zayn smiles again. He’s a little closer to Liam, this time. Liam doesn’t know how he got there. He just keeps tracing the salt, and he thinks Zayn is looking at him still, but he doesn’t know what to say. It’s just quiet, still quiet, and it’s getting awkward, and—

“Do you go back to Bradford?” Liam blurts out. It’s something to say, at least. “I mean, I know you talk about it, but are you still friends with all those people?”

“Yeah, ‘course. You?” Zayn replies, too fast. Maybe he felt the awkward too.

“Didn’t really have many people to stay friends with,” Liam says. There’s no point beating around the bush; Zayn had been there too.

But it makes it quiet again. Louis and Niall look at each other, Harry looks at Zayn. Liam doesn’t want to know where Zayn is looking. Doesn’t want to know if Zayn is looking at him. Why would Zayn be looking at him, though? He’s megafamous, and Liam’s still just Liam, like he always was.

“Okay, we’ve intruded enough,” he announces, and bolts to his feet. He needs to go. He needs to get away, and go back to his place where he can fantasize about Zayn Malik in peace, without remembering how much more he is than Liam, how out of reach he always has been. Without knowing that he’s still nice and beautiful and funny and kind, like he always was. “Come on, Louis. Niall. Good to see you, Zayn.”

“Oh. Um, yeah.” Zayn bites at his lip, his brow furrowing. Liam has to wonder, if that’s the look he never saw, back when they were teenagers. It doesn’t matter. He knew what he was doing then, and he knows what he’s doing now. “Nice to see you, Liam. If you ever want to come to a concert, or anything…”

“Definitely.” Liam smiles, best he can, and grabs at Niall’s arm to pull him up. “Bye! Bye Harry, nice to meet you.”

“See you, apparently,” Louis adds, as Liam hurries them away. He thankfully waits until they’re at least a few meters away before he whispers, “What the fuck was that? You were bonding!”

They don’t know, is the thing. They don’t know how Liam had watched Zayn sing, on that summer night, with Zayn’s kiss still humming in his bones. Had watched Zayn shine so brightly, and had known, before he possibly could, that Zayn was going to make it big. That Zayn was meant for something great, and Liam wasn’t, and that kiss—the kiss he’d longed for for years, the kiss he’d dreamed about after an hour of tutoring with Zayn, laughing with him and watching his lips move—that kiss wouldn’t come to anything, so Liam had to leave before his heart broke, again and again. They don’t know that Liam had left, like he was leaving now, because it would mean so much more to Liam than it would to Zayn.

“Let’s go, Louis,” Liam repeats, and strides outside.

He splits with Louis and Niall outside, after assuring them he’s fine; they go off towards their flat. Liam should go home, or shopping, or finish off the errands Louis had interrupted; instead he sags against the wall. Zayn Malik. And he still feels the same way he always had about him.

“Liam!”

Liam jumps, his eyes flying open, but he didn’t dream the voice. Zayn’s there, in front of him, a little flushed like he’d been running. It makes his eyes sparkle, but his face is serious.

“Look, I don’t know—I don’t know what I did, back when we were kids, what I messed up,” Zayn says, and his voice is deliberate, like he’d planned this speech. Liam blinks. He messed up? Zayn thought—Zayn thought about it? “But I really liked you then, and maybe the timing wasn’t right, but, like, this is serendipity, yeah? Fate.” He runs a hand through his hair. Liam feels like he did on that summer night, when Zayn had found him by the drinks table and started talking, started _flirting_ , his hand on Liam’s arm and all of Liam’s brain turned to mush. “So, I don’t know. But, if you want to use it, this is my number.” He holds out a slip of paper. Liam just stares at it. He doesn’t know what else to do.

“Just, no pressure. Even if you just want to see a show or something.” Zayn shrugs. He’s still holding out the paper. “Seems like a waste of fate, otherwise.”

Like he’s on autopilot, Liam takes it. “You liked me? When we were teenagers?”

“Why else would I kiss you?” Zayn’s tugging on his ear, and maybe it’s a bit creepy that Liam knows that’s the same nervous gesture it was years ago, when Zayn’d been playing with his earring right before he’d sidled into Liam. “Hope I’ll see you around, Liam.”

He raises his hand in half a wave, then drops it and walks away, his face ducked as he heads back into the diner.

Liam stares after him, and only a tiny bit because watching Zayn walk away is a nice view. It’s just—he’d never expected any of this. Never expected Zayn had liked him once, that he’d think he’d be worth coming after now.

He looks down at the paper in his hand. There’s a smiley face after the number, and an x, like he signs off his tweets.

Liam’s hand closes over the paper as he stands up, heads back towards his errands. Maybe—maybe Zayn’s got a point, about the waste of fate.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked these? Want to discuss or see more as they're posted? Comment or come chat on [ tumblr](http://zaynandhisboys.tumblr.com/) or go to the full archive at [ my drabble blog](http://stormdirection.tumblr.com/)!


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